Whirl
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Autobot
Posts: 1,134
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Gender: Male
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Post by Whirl on Nov 23, 2015 12:32:05 GMT
"Well, I'm off," Whirl doesn't believe he's wanted here - well, he doesn't believe he's wanted anywhere - but they've got each other and they don't need him.
Besides, stuff.
Without further ado, he leaves the Surgery. If they want him to stay, they'd have to ask after him.
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Cobalt
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Autobot
Posts: 85
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Gender: Male
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Post by Cobalt on Nov 23, 2015 13:35:28 GMT
Cobalt snuggles into the gap between Whiteclaw's torso and his arm, softly sighing in content. The cold of White barely bugs him from his recent events being far worse. The tiny grey mech stood out against the white frame of the predacon, and he shifted slowly. Cobalt truly was a child, and would act like ao even in his sleep.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Nov 23, 2015 13:37:33 GMT
AWWWWWWWWWWW))
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Nov 23, 2015 21:36:43 GMT
(hehe... and Cobalt, I know, I should be making homework ;- After some hours of recharge, the mech's optics are opened, their light was dim since it uses to happen when he wakes up. Then, he would notice the small body of Cobalt resting around his arm. His body feels weak, but stable. Maybe the fight and the spark attack has taken his energy in a bad way. Moving his servo close of Cobalt, he sighs. The cold vapor would come out from his intake and nostrils. Well, now, what am I going to do...? Cobalt...He's a bit confused. a lot of things has happened the latest days
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Cobalt
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Autobot
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Gender: Male
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Post by Cobalt on Nov 23, 2015 21:47:43 GMT
Cobalt's optic slowly open, blinking repeatedly as he fully awakes. The shifting of Whiteclaw jad woken him, but he didn't mind. The sparkling rolled upwards into a cross legged position. His arms drop to the berth and his servos give some support to his frame. The tiny mech smiles seeing that White had awoken himself. Are you doing much better Da-Whiteclaw? Cobalt had cut himself off, he wasn't sure that that would be okay to say. There was a burning feeling in his spark chamber now. The sparkling did consider the predacon family now, so it does make a bit of sense he'd say such a thing.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 26, 2015 18:00:29 GMT
With a bit of time, the red color of the Whiteclaw's optics look like always, bright. He sits on the berth edge and puts his feet at the ground. He feels tired, but that uses to happen after a time of recovering.
Yeah, I'm fine, but we could be better, though, want to go outside?
He asked tot the sparkling, moving his temperature sensor of his head like a bunny would do. Inside his mind, he looked at Cobalt like a weird version fo his dream, a family. The thing that disturbs him is knowing the Sparkling has, or had a family, but then, he would shrug mentally and probably, he'll take care of him unless his real family claims the little one.
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Cobalt
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Autobot
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Gender: Male
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Post by Cobalt on Nov 27, 2015 17:47:23 GMT
Cobalt happily hopped off the berth and hit the floor. The sparkling stumbled a bit on the landing, but brought back his posture. As he approa check ed the exit of the ward, Cobalt began to speak in his squeaky voice. Yes! We should do something fun. This is what he wanted, but inside his mind, the tiny bit knew that wasn't exactly what was going to happen. This world was at war and "fun" was generally out of the question, but maybe Whiteclaw would show him something cool.
When Cobalt reached the door, he vainly tried to leap at the pad to open it, but he couldn't jump high enough. Just a few seconds into this, the sparkling grew exhausted and slumped on the wall below it.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Nov 27, 2015 20:40:37 GMT
Whitecaw blinks when the sarkling said something fun. The old mech has another point of view and given his ld age, he can't remember what kind of things are funy to a child like Cobalt.
Something fun... I dont know what kind of fun is he talking about.....
He stands up and transforms into his beast mode, his four legs touch the floor with less effort than only two legs. Looking at his claws, White gets an idea that would interest Cobalt, or at least, that is the intention.
Hey! You dont have to open a dor when you can ride!
WHiteclaw gets on his knees to et the Sparkling climb his back
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Cobalt
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Autobot
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Gender: Male
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Post by Cobalt on Nov 28, 2015 21:09:28 GMT
Cobalt laughs a little before climbing onto the back of the predacon. His tiny frame happily clutching to the cold plates of his self considered adoptive father. When the sparkling had fully positioned himself, he spoke excitedly to Whiteclaw. Where are we going!? Cobalt didn't really care, but he did sort of want to know. Even if White wasn't sure about being a parent, Cobalt still considered him one. There wmisn't much that could deter this happy-go-lucky bot. And so the sparkling awaited the ride offered to him.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Nov 29, 2015 4:34:45 GMT
Whiteclaw pushes the door with one of his paws. He didn't make a big effort to open it since his size and height is enough to push everything, sometimes in a clumsy way. He feels his stomach, or fuel tanks almost empty, making the big mech hungry. Also, White remembers he needs to look for a room to stay in until he can find his issues with his damaged memories.
We need to look for a place to stay in, a room, or if you want, I would offer you a drink, you choose!
He walked towards the hall carrying the sparkling on his back.
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Post by Breech Loader on Dec 3, 2015 14:24:41 GMT
A ground-bridge opens, and Hotwire steps through it, following Taggon. She looks a bit nervous about the next step.
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Post by Taggon on Dec 3, 2015 14:55:16 GMT
The groundbrifge would shut behind the vehicon as he took his entry into the room, right behind Hotwire. A single knife would be in his left servo, as he would twirl it between his servos, stepping in front of Hotwire, the knife idly being played in his servo digits ever so effortlessly, his muscle-memory acting up once more. The motions were practically automatic now. The vehicon gestured to a berth which Hotwire was to lay down upon. The room was lit well, hardly a shadow reared itself into the two Avacon's view. Taggon would glance at Hotwire, still silently wondering what her true intentions were. History had shown her to follow these five words: She did what she wanted. Taggon would give a small sigh, he had noticed her upgraded chassis--and nothing new about her had evaded him. He had his suspicions of where she'd received such upgrades, though the source which he accused in his mind was a far-fetched hypothesis with little to no evidence as of now. So he would keep his optics open. His
The vehicon would continue to flip his knife around as he waited his medic partner to appear before them, as he had requested his ally to. The ally would be having to be used once more, considering a few stages of a few plans Taggon had. He needed to--commit a few deeds again. This time, he would try hard not to play the mass-genocide trooper people always thought him to be.
Taggon would suddenly chuckle, though it was a worn and unsettling one. Him? No, he was a war-machine. He was scarred and cursed with such a title, and when people looked upon him, faced his visor, they gave him more or less than the title 'vehicon'. It was the cost of being one. The low chuckle would stop as Taggon sent a few com-messages to Stalaken, and continue to dwell on his own plans, some likelihood of this situation, and how things would play out in the end.
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Plexo
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Neutral
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Gender: Male
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Post by Plexo on Dec 3, 2015 15:06:03 GMT
A small fifteen foot medic would rush into the scene, dusting himself off. The mech was a blend of both sable black and solid white, the figure of the small mech would continue to rush into the room, before coming to an almost immediate halt at the door. Knaught would begin a small amount of huffing, as he went on, adjourning to his destination. With his four-barreled optic lens he would more than easily locate the familiar figure of Taggon, and one of his older patients, Hotwire.
"Salutations and warm greetings," Knaught puffed, as he approached them, glancing at both wearily, before returning his gaze to Taggon. The much taller mech would make the small mech almost look directly up, to Knaught, it was an annoying thing. it was like David and Goliath, only he lacked a sling, and there was no philistines.
"Pardon mine time in arrival, however, unfortunately I encountered the troublesome task of navigating in this vast vessel. Additionally, I have but discovered the contents of this shelter, and have but barely been provided with enough time to have all mine queries answered. Nonetheless," Knaught would sigh, "I have harkened unto thine summon." Knaught would pause, eyeing the knife Taggon continued to flip around. The small medic would frown, his single cyan normal-looking rectangular optic giving Taggon a brief glare,
"Please, Officer Taggon. I have mentioned how I hold a small distaste for weaponry within the borders of this medical facility. Now. Whom may this young femme be, and why hath she been deemed in need for my services? Thine message spoke only of an urgent situation, but from my optical scans, this femme would seem to be in fit condition." Knaught would conclude, though he said so as if he was expecting one of them to answer him.
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Post by Breech Loader on Dec 3, 2015 17:07:42 GMT
"It's a little bit more complicated than external repairs, doc," Hotwire grimaced, "Recently our personality chip and coding got damaged and... "
Her frame - the stance and the way she sits and the way she looks at them shifts. She looks altogether more sly and cunning, almost a different person in the same body. A subtly different voice speaks - the same voice box, but sharper and colder.
"...And this. You see, I'm Breech Loader..."
She shifts again.
"And I'm Hotwire."
The shift happens again.
" It's simply infuriating. Two people, one body. And I don't seem to have any control over who's in charge. I want-"
"-rid-"
-of-"
"-her. Strip out one of us, or merge us together. The same person, but different people. Like twins who have to be together all the time!" Hotwire grimaced again, "We don't know who's going to come out on top, and frankly we're not sure we care... But we both want to be fixed."
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Post by Taggon on Dec 3, 2015 22:52:05 GMT
Seeing the good medic arrive on time was nice. It was pleasant to lay optics on an old friend, though Taggon could tell after Knaughts explanations, that formalities were over as quickly as they had begun. The vehicon would silently sheath his knife, the blade slipping into his arm ever so naturally, the small flash of a well-polished blade glimmering on last time before disappearing up Taggon's gauntlet. The vehicon would step back from Hotwire and Breech, as she explained her predicament to the doctor. Taggon couldn't help but imagine if Chaff were in the room.
'You got multiple personalities too? Awesome! I bet you two are like, the best tick-tack-toe buddies. Or maybe you're not. Who likes the 'O's and who prefers the 'X's? What do you mean off topic, these are very pressing matters.'
Taggon knew Chaff, and with the help of his imagination, he could hear the echo of what Chaff would be saying. The mech would have most likely rudely interrupted, and then maybe have pulled out a squirt gun or something out of his subspace and lather the place with one of his experimental fluids, all i the name of science and his good looks. Something that lacked logic or sense.
The dark black and chrome vehicon would continue to spectate, never hostile, but simply watching from a far, ready to help if needed.
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Plexo
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Neutral
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Post by Plexo on Dec 3, 2015 23:13:47 GMT
While Taggon seemed to wordlessly watch, but obeying Knaught's request, Knaught knew that he was left to hear out his patient. As the two femmes in one spoke, Knaught's quadruple-barrled optic would whirl from the left to the right, as it did when he was thinking or analyzing something, his x-ray flipping on and off, along with his heat vision, his other scanners that enabled him to view Hotwire and Breeches Vitals. He would furrow one brow and raise the other ever so slightly, as he heard both femme's story meld into one.
"This sounds like a case that rivals mine past procedures in the field of difficulty." Knaught stroked his chin with one of his large servo digits. He had not separated Two minds from one body before--or maybe he had? He'd done spark-splitting, and that had been remarkably tricky. This? The femme's case with her personality chip? It sounded like just the fruiting body of something much deeper, something that once up-rooted could result in disaster. He could be messing with something that he didn't know the full extent of. Knaught began to pace, as he thought of what to do. How could he not soil these femmes, or not make them abominations in the end? If he tried to separate the two, and put one in a new body, the result would be a disaster.
His X-ray scans indicated someone had tried to mess with her personality chip, and that--something had definitely backfired within the femme. Knaught would use his full access to the archives to look up any medical records on the femme. Sure enough, months ago, the femme had reluctantly entered the base and undergone a procedure that brought a nicer part of her out. Unfortunately, something had backfired, and when that nicer part was brought out, the surgeons who did it had merely re-ignited the femme Hotwire at a different stage in her life. So there was the femme who had been through all the developments, and the femme who hadn't; no doubt they agreed on many things, but also disagreed on just as many. It was sad, what had been pulled off. Knaught glanced at his servos. What could he do to make the situation better?
Then it hit him. The mech stopped pacing, and his four-barrled optic ceased whirling. The answer was so obvious Knaught couldn't believed he had missed it. The Autobots--in order to have made Breech--they would have had to tinkered with her personality chip. But perhaps that was just it. And if that were such--
"As thine might suspect, I have amassed together a scroll-length of a solution within mine processor, as of now. But before I proceed, I shall ask: Does Breech exclusively take residence in thy personality chip? Is she nowhere else at all within that chassis?" Knaught would ask thoughtfully, though excitement in his voice was quite evident. The medic was on to something.
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Post by Breech Loader on Dec 3, 2015 23:25:01 GMT
"Er... you what?"
"He means am I real or just a result of one of us being crazy, Doucherina," Breech answered.
"Well, I... we... I think Breech is just as 'real' as I am. She's... a part of me, but I'm a part of her. I think I need her, sometimes."
"And I think I need Hotwire, too," Breech added, "We're both people. This body? It's all my body. But it's all Hotwire's body. It's like if twins happened after being spawned. But we can't-"
"-keep going-"
"-like this."
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Plexo
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Neutral
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Gender: Male
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Post by Plexo on Dec 3, 2015 23:51:51 GMT
Knaught listened, his four-barreled optic clicking to the right, the left, the right, and back again. They were indeed like sisters. They wanted to be out of the same body, but not separated. Knaught's cyan blue optics wouldn't grow paler or brighter, but it would just look at the femme as if he had just fitted the first piece of her jigsaw puzzle together. Knaught would nod at their statements.
"I see. I believe due to recent hypothesizing, that I, as previously stated, have envisioned just the proper adjustments to be applied to thine condition for thy to be satisfied in the aftermath." Knaught would state, be fore paused, and rolling his single regular optic at himself, "Or so I assume. I have not once in my lifetime addressed a patient in thine predicament, however, I shall endeavor with mine best skills at servo." Knaught would gesture for Breech and Hotwire to lie down on the berth.
"If I am correct, Breech was created upon the analyzation and modification to Hotwire's personality chip. They both originate from the same beginning, however, thine elder sister has ascended farther up her own road of life. Breech, thine art a younger version, as I presume, since thou art Hotwire, but before life's incidents wrecked further wrath upon Hotwire. Simply put--" Knaught would pause, looking up to the ceiling with his servo over his chin. What he had just said was slightly confusing even if he broke it down.
"The point is," Knaught would continue thoughtfully, "Well--" Knaught would again apply X-ray vision, and hone his vision in on where he had detected Hotwire's personality chip. A few more moments of silence would don upon the room, as Knaught examined the insides and outsides of Hotwire's personality chip. He would then break another moment of silence before gesturing to the berth. "It is as I suspected. I just had to undergo a double-check for mine reassurance, and thine's own well being. I shall indeed separate both Hotwire and Breech, but not the way thine may surmise. Please lay down on the berth. This process should be a span of time rudimentary language designated 'short', but this procedure shall be strenuous as well."
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Post by Breech Loader on Dec 4, 2015 0:29:47 GMT
"Okay..."
"And me."
Breech/Hotwire lies down on the berth, squirming into a comfortable position before looking up quickly.
"We... hope you don't feel bad. About whatever the results are."
"I suppose some people might say half a life is better than none, but it's seriously complicated."
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Plexo
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Post by Plexo on Dec 4, 2015 12:31:03 GMT
"A clever pun."
Knaught would smile upon Hotwire and Breeches cooperation. It was good to see the two were willing to trust him on this. Even if they perhaps were driven by desperateness, he was satisfied with their cooperation and understanding. Knaught would hence scoot a small stepping stool up to the berth, as to get a good view of Hotwire's upper regions, as to permit him to get into the Personality chip.
The mech would at first inject her with some pain killer, as to prevent her from feeling a thing, in short nullifying her pain receptors for the time being. Needless to say, the pain-killing would wear off in about an hour or two, so the femme would still feel a numbness past the time of the operation perhaps. Knaught would reach over to the tray beside the berth, his servo grasping around a small fusion cutter, it's flames thin but white-hot. It was designed for the small precise cuts a medic often used when getting into delicate areas. Knaught would let one of the four-barrels of his left lens to extend, honing in on the area which the Personality chip was covered by armor and plating. Knaught's vision would act as a microscope, as he would concentrate on opening a slit in her armor carefully, one layer at a time.
Knaught would reach his servo into the freshly cut area, gently slicing around the personality chip in a safe radius, as to not bring any harm to it. The old medic would mutter something softly under his breath, perhaps a verse of the Autobot code or something in ancient primal vernacular, as he revealed unto himself all the cords that connected to the personalty chip. With a larger radius for his servos to reach around, the medic would continue to inspect the delicate wires, checking and double checking to make sure which one hooked up to where. removing the small cutting tool from one servo, Knaught would reach on servo over to the tray once more, using his familiarity with the handle of the tools to guide his hand to the next tool. It was a thick handle with various needles, and these needles would extend into some of the chords, disabling them. They had been added, and what spread Breeches personality around.
"Brace thyselves."
Breech had been a modified personality of Hotwire, made of code, and the Autobots had counted on Hotwire's code to remain scrambled. It had been like a painless and subtle murder. Somehow the femme's personality code had resembled, and now Hotwire was in her chassis again--but sharing it with the Autobot-instigated personality Breech. Knaught would sever the cords and line-thin cables that connected Breeches personality to the Helm and processor, slowly and carefully.
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